


Hers

by Houseofmalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Blackcest (Harry Potter), Cousin Incest, F/M, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23072266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houseofmalfoy/pseuds/Houseofmalfoy
Summary: He'd always been hers.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Hers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hhwgv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhwgv/gifts).



> Written for a prompt left on my tumblr https://romildas.tumblr.com/

They had yelled at each other for what had felt like hours before they’d fallen silent.

They’d yelled and argued about everything that was wrong and everything that came between them and everything that they couldn’t fix even if they wanted to. They wanted to, didn’t they? But it felt like they had different definitions of fixing, different in such a way that it made them incompatible.

Hadn’t they always been just that? Incompatible?

Their timing had never been right, had it?

Narcissa supposed that was part of the reason they’d gotten so good at yelling.

There were so many reasons to yell these days, especially between the two of them. So many reasons to start a fight and so many more to get upset over what would have been nothing at all if the circumstances were different. 

She wondered, sometimes, what it would have been like if they hadn’t been as trapped in the war as they were. Whether they liked it or not, and whether they were ready to admit none of this was either of their choices or not, they were trapped. Deadly and irrevocably trapped in a war that was bigger than the two of them could dream to be.

Narcissa dreamed, still.

She dreamed sometimes that he would listen to her and he would come back to the family and she dreamed that by then their family would be desperate enough to take him back. She was knowledgeable enough that a burn mark on Walburga’s tapestry wasn’t the end-all of the family ties, and naive enough to wish she would see the same sense.

Naive enough too, to still have hope that Sirius would even consider it.

Narcissa dreamed that he would. She dreamed that he would change his ways and rejoin her and she dreamed that they could be what she had imagined them to be ever since she’d gotten the hope that they had any chance at all.

She dreamed of a world where the war was over quickly and it ended with her family on top of the world. Sirius and she together, even if he would never choose that life. Narcissa liked to dream he did.

But they’d never been compatible.

They hadn’t been when they were thirteen years old and kissing in the empty halls of Hogwarts and their childhood homes, when they’d both been nothing but heirs to their respective sides of the Black family and they hadn’t openly discussed their mutual dreams of defying every single one of the expectations on their shoulders. 

They hadn’t been, even when Narcissa had felt as if she’d done the impossible and she had come out and changed her name, because she’d never been that heir at all had she? 

By then it hadn’t even mattered that Sirius had wanted to kiss her just as eagerly as before and it hadn’t even mattered that there’d been whispers about a possible engagement between uncle Orion and Narcissa’s father, because Sirius, in turn, had made it all too clear he wanted out. 

Away from the family, away from their society, away from everything they’d known. 

_ Away from her.  _

They’d always had the worst timing.

They always kept coming around to that timing, to their respective choices and the respective futures they imagined when they closed their eyes at night. 

What hurt most, perhaps, was that both their imaginations included the two of them together in such wildly different situations that they would never find a compromise. 

War didn’t allow for such things, but neither would the Black family have even if the war hadn’t been there at all. 

Narcissa found it easier to blame the war.

Through all their arguments, though, through all their fights and all the yelling and all the anger-fuelled tears they caused each other to spill, they always came right back to this.

Sirius’ voice was hoarse from the fight they’d just stopped — unresolved but over with nonetheless — when he whispered to her. Her name, first, and then what she really wanted to hear. 

“Kiss me.”

It only took Narcissa a split second to comply.

She never was quite as willing to obey with anyone but him, but she blamed that on the appeal of his requests. 

Narcissa felt herself melting into Sirius’ body when their lips pressed together in a kiss that was every bit as passionate as the argument had been. Every bit as familiar too. 

She knew him as she knew herself, and they’d been here so often now that she had known it was coming long before he’d whispered those words, but that had never stopped her heart from beating out of her chest when she kissed him. It didn’t now, either. 

Narcissa shut her eyes tightly and parted her lips and his hands gripped onto her hips tightly and she loved every moment of it. Sirius’ lips were always just a little too rough, just a little bruised and one way or another there was nearly always some sort of little cut or blister in the process of healing that brushed against her skin with each movement. 

Like this, with his hands tangled in her hair and the tears that hadn’t had time to dry on her cheeks yet sticking against his skin, the world around them ceased to matter.

They could argue again later, and she was certain that they would, but for now, all she needed and all she wanted was to feel more of him, to lose herself in the way his tongue roamed her mouth with an experience she knew he’d build with her. To let herself believe that he was still hers.

He was hers, in their own way.  _ Hers  _ even if they had never been compatible. 

_ Hers  _ even when he shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t ever be. 

_ Hers _ , even if only in her dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are of course always appreciated!


End file.
